If there’s one thing that keeps things interesting in a house with two kids under four, it’s the fights.
Epic fights involving teeth, nails and lots and lots of screaming.
I’m not the only one, right?
Please tell me I’m not the only one.
In the beginning, Cara and Ollie were thick as thieves. And they still are to some extent. But most days, these two go at each other from the time they wake up in the morning until they go to sleep at night.
When all of this crap first started, I practically killed myself playing the referee of their fights.
“CARA! Don’t bite your brother!”
“OLIVER! Don’t lick your sister!”
“CARA! It is NOT OK to put your brother in the toy box!”
Lots and lots of screaming. A whole lot of timeouts and a healthy helping of tears.
That stuff gets tiring after a while and late last week, I just got fed up by it all. I decided I was done being the referee and also began to think my constant intervention just might be making the problem even worse.
I’ve started ignoring it. Granted I keep half an ear out for real cries and intervene if I’m really needed but for the most part, I’ve just been leaving them to work it out.
What I was half expecting was for them to eat each other and for me to be left childless. Much to my surprise, the fights have become less frequent. The spats about who has what baby still happen but they’re solved a heck of a lot faster than in the past.
Sure, there are still timeouts and tears and sometimes bite marks but it’s gotten a lot better.
Am I a parenting freak when it comes to this kind of situation? I figure it’s working. And if it ain’t broke, don’t put on your black and white shirt and your whistle.